Calling Dr. Sandburg, or is it Detective Sandburg?
by BKJ's Sorceress
Summary: Just an ending to the show's stupid ending, and a way of explaining the stage set for my next story. Thanks, good reading.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Calling Dr. Sandburg, or is it Detective Sandburg?  
  
Rating: pg13  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Sentinel; please don't sue because it won't produce anything. I'm just student after all.  
  
Author's note: I had to put of this ending to set the stage for my next story, so it's going to go AU after this one, okay? If you don't like it, sorry, flames are excepted because they let me know someone actually read my story. Thanks, and enjoy the story.  
  
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Blair had no idea what to think as he watched the news report. Someone had finally done it; they'd gotten rid of Chancellor Edwards. The students had striked, organized by some mysterious ringleader, and somehow managed to get plenty of attention. Then, certain funding had been pulled, money not for the students, but funding for the schools staff. The tenured professors pay and pension plans had been cut, mysteriously by some government-arranged plan. And now, NOW everything was being reviewed and reanalyzed by the board. And the result had been that only moments before, an excited Eli Stoddard had called to say that his case, Blair Sandburg's case, was being restudied. The Board of Directors were in an uproar about what they had found out. Chancellor Edwards had covered up certain things, and now they knew how she had handled his case, how she cooperated with that publisher and the press. How she really had been out to get rid of him, because of petty dislike.   
  
They wanted him to submit another dissertation, the closed-studies one. They wanted him to graduate, to get his PH.D. They wanted him to become a professor at Rainier University; they wanted him to quit being a Detective in short.   
  
Which was why he was sitting in this little room off the coffee shop his friend owned, sitting on a battered couch and watching the television kept in there while trying to get his brain to function. He had turned his cell off after Dr. Stoddard had called, and wasn't planning on turning it back on until his lunch hour was over, and upon seeing his shock his friend had directed him to this room. His friend, William Ground had coaxed the story out of him, then upon hearing it had switched on the television and fixed Blair a cup of Irish cream coffee spiked with Whiskey.   
  
He hadn't drunk more than a few sips of it; he was still on duty after all, but on his lunch hour. It didn't end till 1:30 p.m. and it was only 12:55 p.m. right now. He had time, plus he was supposed to be running errands for a while after that. It was the first time he was glad he was now the rookie in the department, and being the low man on the totem pole had him doing errands. Jim was at a trial testifying, so he wouldn't see him till late that evening.   
  
It still didn't help him figure out what to do about this. He had wanted his doctorate degree forever it seemed, and only in the last few months had it become painfully obvious it wasn't going to happen. But he was happy; he had gone through the academy and was now Jim's official partner. Never again could they tell him he was just an observer or question his capacity as Jim's partner; he had the diploma from the academy, the certificates of high achievement in those courses, even a marksman certification, the Detective's badge, and even the gun and backup weapon he had to carry as an officer of the law. But he still wanted his PH.D.; and that surprised him immensely. He wanted his degree, his diploma, the recognition; but he didn't want to be a professor. Not if it meant giving up his badge, and going back to the classroom full-time. He couldn't, and wouldn't do it; not ever would he leave what he had now. Nothing would take this job he had, the people he cared for that he now stood by and protected, not without the worst fight of their life.  
  
But he still wanted those letters after his name, those three little letters that would make him Doctor Sandburg. So what could he do, was he Dr. Sandburg or Detective Sandburg? He wanted to be both, and it was hard, now that it was back in his sights, to give up that doctorate he wanted so badly. But he knew he couldn't have his cake and eat it too; it wasn't possible.   
  
Numbly, he glanced at his watch. It read 1:19 p.m. He'd better go ahead and do his errands, maybe the monotony of the tasks would let him work on his problem and come up with a solution. Otherwise, he was going to have to go to the University. And that at the moment was something he still wasn't up to facing.  
  
Standing, he picked up his jacket and slid it on; then reached over to turn of the small TV. He dumped what remained of the coffee down the sink in the connecting bathroom, before heading out. As he passed the counter he set down the empty mug, and waved good-bye to William. William waved back at him, before turning back to the line of customers he had, a frown on his face. Blair made a hasty retreat, not ready to discuss the University problem with anyone yet.   
  
Quickly he moved across the parking lot to the Jeep he had bought after he had gotten most of his debts squared away and the steady paycheck he was getting from being a Detective had gotten him back toward the black. Slipping behind the wheel, he absently turned his cell-phone back on. He needed to keep it on in case of an emergency, but didn't intend to answer it unless it was from the station. On autopilot, he drove his vehicle out of the parking lot and towards the cigar shop. His mind was already trying to come up to solution for his problem.  
  
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Simon chewed irritably on his cigar as he watched the news report, but his mind wasn't entirely focused on it. He had already had Rhonda try to get in touch with Sandburg, and when she had failed to reach him, Simon had tried himself. Now most of the Major Crimes unit was worried about him. Joel picked up the phone every once in a while, trying to get through to Jim to let him know what was going on, but also trying to get in touch with Sandburg. About an hour before he had finally gotten a hold of Sandburg's phone, but he hadn't answered. Since then every Detective had tried reaching him, only to end up leaving another voice mail for him.  
  
They still hadn't reached Jim, and Sandburg either was choosing not to answer the phone or was so busy with errands he hadn't realized messages were being left for him. And it was only a matter of time before the press drug up the whole dissertation fiasco again. Simon didn't want Blair to get cornered somewhere, without his partner, by a reporter and be interrogated.  
  
Simon pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, even in his thoughts he was using Blair instead of Sandburg. It was a testament to how worried he was about the kid; the kid who was now twenty-eight years old.  
  
Daryl had been the one to alert to them to the whole business, being a beat cop he had been sent to the demonstration on campus to help control the crowd. When he had learned about the whole situation, he had called Simon's office directly to give him a heads up on the problem. Simon was glad he had, and was proud of how levelheaded he'd been since the whole dissertation fiasco. Simon was also grateful he had not asked if it was true or not, even though Simon knew he had his suspicions.   
  
If Sandburg didn't call back soon he was leaving him another message, one that would get his attention. And if that failed, Simon was going to go out to find him whether he liked it or not. He might act a little gruff sometimes with Blair, but damn it, he was attached to that kid. And he was ready to chew up anyone who got in his way of finding him. Jim wasn't the only one who could pull that Blessed Protector act he though with a growl, the cigar he had gnawed to shreds snapping in two in his fist.  
  
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Blair calmly studied the traffic ahead of him as he replaced the newly charged batteries into his cell-phone. He had forgotten to charge them and when he had gotten but a block from the coffee shop it had died. He still wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet, unless maybe it was Jim. Otherwise he didn't feel like talking because his mind and his feelings were on overdrive. He had to figure out a solution soon, otherwise he might go nuts trying to figure it out in his head.  
  
When the cell-phone rang again he sighed, and then picked it up off the seat beside him to glance at the caller ID. Reading the caller ID, his eyes widened in shock then realization. Glancing at the traffic still held up in front of him, he made sure he wasn't going anywhere, then switched it to speakerphone and put it in the holder next to the stereo. As his eyes went back to the road, he couldn't help the next words out of my mouth, "Well that solves the mystery of who's the ringleader behind this."  
  
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Simon frowned at this phone as he slammed it down, the reporters were starting to call and now Sandburg's phone was busy so he couldn't leave a message. Grabbing his coat as he stood up, he strode from his office to Rhonda's desk. "Rhonda, if Jim or Sandburg calls tell them to call my cell. If any more reporters call give them the standard no comment, if they go as far as deciding to camp outside the precinct let me know. I'm going to see if I find out anything about what's going on," Simon punched out as he moved by her desk. AS he headed toward the elevator, Joel moved out from behind his desk, pulling on his coat as moved. "Wait me for Simon. I'll give you a hand. It's been a while since you've been out doing actual legwork," Joel admonished, knowing the real reason Simon was going out himself was because of how worried he was about Blair.  
  
Simon gave Joel a tight smile and a mock growl as he joined him in the elevator, he was glad for his old friend's support on this. As the doors closed, he watched as several of his Detectives watched wistfully. Brown, Rafe, and Megan were watching him particularly. They wanted to be out trying to find Blair themselves, and it was frustrating because they couldn't go looking.   
  
Simon watched the doors close and the numbers flash as they descended towards the garage level. As the doors opened he moved straight towards his sedan, knowing Joel was following. As he slid behind the wheel, and flipped the switch to unlock the passenger's side, he slipped the key into the ignition. As soon Joel had buckled himself in, Simon practically peeled out of the garage. As he drove out into the sunlight he tried to ignore the gut feeling that something was wrong.  
  
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Blair barely noticed the pair of security guards escorting him to the room where the board members were in conference. As he was escorted into the room, the half dozen members looked up at him slightly fearful.   
  
"Ladies and gentleman, I think I have the voice of the ringleader here and they are willing to discuss stopping this," Blair began. Setting the phone into its cradle, he hooked it to his laptop. He smiled as the voice spoke from the line. "Here are the terms gentleman," the soft lilting voice began, the steel behind it having the Board members rapt attention.   
  
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Simon winced as the roar came through his cell-phone clearly, Jim Ellison was pissed and letting everyone know it. "Ellison!," he barked into the phone as Jim continued to rant at him. The silence was sudden on the other side, as Jim calmly waited for Simon's admonishment. "Look I know you're worried about the kid, we all are, but you growling at your superior isn't going to work. Now get your but over to the station in case he heads back there, we've looked everywhere else for him. We'll meet you there," Simon finished with a snap.   
  
As soon as he hung up the phone though it was ringing again. "Banks," he barked into the phone. "Dad," a calm, familiar voice replied from the other end, "Blair's here at the University," Daryl finished. "What?!," Simon barked in disbelief. "He showed up over an hour ago. I tried to get to him before he went in, but I couldn't get him. Then when I went looking for him they told me he was in with the Board of Directors and they said they weren't to be disturbed. I've been trying to reach for the last half an hour," Daryl finished. "Sorry, I've been on the phone myself, Thanks son for the information," Simon continued, his voice softening for his son. "No problem Dad, just get over here with Jim. Blair might need you guys," he replied softly, his tone indicating what exactly for. Simon sighed knowing what he was getting at and answered, "we'll be right there Daryl, I promise."  
  
Simon hung up the phone with some calm; they had finally found Sandburg at least, now to get his partner. Handing his phone to Joel, he made U-turn for the University campus. "Tell Jim that the kids at the University, and for him to meet us there," Simon told Joel. Gripping the wheel both two hands he made a sharp turn and barreled through a red light. 'You better be all right Sandburg,' he thought, that fear still gnawing in his gut.  
  
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Blair stepped shakily out of the room, his head spinning and his inside shaking. It seems he could have his cake and eat it too, but he had an interesting dilemma to deal with now. But that would have to be dealt with later, because right now he needed to contact Jim and Simon and tell them everything. 'Well, everything but who arranged this. That will have to remain my secret at least until I figure out some stuff. Oh boy, do I need to figure out some stuff,' Blair thought wildly as he sat down into a chair and reached for his cell-phone.  
  
But before he could even pull it out, he found himself at the mercy of very intense Sentinel examination. As he was yanked of his chair, he fumbled to keep a hold of the cell-phone in his hands. "Jim," he yelped in a whine as his larger partner first choked the breath out of him with a bear-hug; then tilted his head back to examine his face with the utmost scrutiny.   
  
Icy blue eyes met ocean blue ones as the Sentinel focused on his Guide's well being. The eyes were swamped with emotions, but the breathing was fairly normal and heart rate was only slightly elevated. The skin under his fingers was flushed, and the skin was slightly clammy, but otherwise his Guide seemed well.   
  
"Why didn't you call me?," Jim growled lowly, his fear and temper rising to the forefront. "Because I had to do this myself, and was asked to do this as well by the mysterious ringleader of this," Blair returned calmly, his arm moving in a gesture towards the window where the student protestors could be seen dispersing. "They wanted me to set up the meeting so terms could be discussed, and things would get done. And because the ringleader was a friend who was looking out for my best interests, and knew how to get what I wanted," Blair stated softly. "I'm going to write my dissertation, on closed sub-societies, and I'm going to get my PH.D.; then they want me to become a professor here next fall semester," he continued softly, watching as the reaction flitted through his partner eyes then shuttered shut of all emotions.  
  
Blair calmly shifted out of Jim's grasp, only to grab his arm in what was considered a warriors handshake. "I told them I wanted to get my doctorate, but becoming a professor was something we would have to see about. It just depends on my case schedule, and how I can work it in. Jim, it's about friendship," Blair finished. 'And maybe even Brotherhood," he thought wildly to himself, but that he wisely kept silent about.  
  
"I'm where I belong Jim, I don't want to be anywhere else," he continued, smiling at him. Jim searched his face slowly, looking for a sign of truth. Then, suddenly, his face broke into the biggest grin, "Will I have to call you Dr. Sandburg after that?," he teased lightly, the pride in his voice evident.  
  
Blair grinned back at him, one crisis had been dealt with, and he knew how to continue to figure out the next one. "Nah," he replied in answer to Jim's question, "Chief, works fine for me." Jim smiled back at him as he slung an arm around Blair's shoulders to turn him towards Simon and Joel. Blair smiled at them and they smiled back, relief obvious in their faces.  
  
"I say we celebrate," Jim continued as he guided Blair down the hall, "how about Bobby H's," he suggested. Blair nodded in agreement, "that sounds good, we should make it a department celebration though. Simon think we could call the others and get them to meet us there?," he finished. "I think, Sandburg, that you better give them some proof that you're alright so that's a good idea. Also you have some explaining to do, so Yeah I say Bobby H's is good a place to go," Simon admitted with a sigh as a he jammed a new cigar in his mouth. "Believe me you better have a good story," Simon finished.  
  
'I do Simon, boy do I, but you wait till I tell you what else I was told today,' Blair thought to himself mischievously. "I do Simon, I do," he stated out loud, "It's a dozy." 'With an added bonus, but we'll discuss that later.' Blair thought to himself as they headed out the building. 'Oh boy, do I have something to tell him,' Blair thought as they climbed into their vehicles. 'You haven't heard anything yet, Simon.'  
  
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Author's Final Notes: Okay, this really wasn't supposed to be more than one chapter, but, well . . . It will only be one more Chapter, I would love any reviews you care to leave. Flamage is accepted,(Hey I live somewhere very hot anyway, so what's the friggin difference!) This is really just a story to set up the stage for my sequel to this. I hope you like this and my upcoming fic, My Name Is . . . Thanks, Good reading! 


	2. Brothers, What do you mean Brothers?!?!

Title: Brothers, What do you mean Brothers?!?!  
  
Rating: pg13  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the Sentinel; please don't sue because it won't produce anything. I'm just student after all.  
  
Author's note: Thanks for the people who reviewed, and Mathias I fixed the first chapter's problems as best I could. But the suddenness of the ringleader stepping forward I'm leaving. I like the way it is and I want that to stay the way it is. I hope the other fixes though meet your approval. Okay, here's the next Chapter, The last Chapter, thankfully. I hope you like it, Good reading!  
  
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Nearly a month later . . .   
  
"Simon, I have to ask a favor, it's . . . important," I asked softly. "What is it Blair?," he asked , his loud voice toning down at the soft, shaky, and hesitant tone of his youngest Detective. "Well, it's like this Simon, I need you to get a sample of my blood and Jim's blood at this upcoming Blood Drive. It's because . . ."  
  
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Two weeks later . . .   
  
"Simon, I go-ot th-th-the tes-tes-test re-results ba-back," Blair stammered as he shut the door to the office shut and dropped into the chair in front of Simon's desk. "And . . .?," Simon asked, a tad hesitantly. Blair cleared his throat, but only managed to utter a soft squeak. With an apologetic look he handed the report to Simon.  
  
Simon glanced through the graph and representations of DNA strands, flipping to the results. As he read over them, his eyes widened in shock and then almost a sort of understanding. "Blair, this means . . . ?," he asked softly, the meaning of the papers derailing his train of thought.  
  
"It means Simon, that William Ellison is my father, and that Jim is my half brother," Blair uttered softly. "And I don't know what to do Simon," Blair admitted, his head in his hands. "You simply tell him, . . . Blair . . . if I know Jim, this will only make it official that you're family. That in fact you're brothers in blood now, as well as by choice," Simon replied, his words hesitant, but strong.  
  
Blair looked at him, searching his face for some sign. "But if were really half brothers, . . . doesn't that . . . doesn't it mean we can't be partners anymore?," he asked, the fear in his voice evident.  
  
Simon frowned at him before pulling off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Look Blair, this is an unusual case with unusual circumstances. As long as you don't bring up the relationship up with anyone outside of your friends and family I think it will be okay. And if you're worried about telling Jim, wait till he gets back from records and I'll bring him in here. You can tell him then," Simon finished gently. "Thanks Simon," Blair replied, a weak smile gracing his face as he turned back to looking at the results.  
  
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Jim frowned as he glanced around the Bullpen, looking for his partner. Glancing at Simon's office and the drawn blinds, something told him to check there first. Laying the files he had on his desk he headed for the office door. He reached for the knob automatically, then stopping himself, raised his hand to knock on the door. A resounding bellow of "come in" from Simon was all he needed before sticking his head in.  
  
Jim's question died on his lips as he caught sight of his partner's pale face. Tuning in automatically to Blair's heart rate, he stepped into the office and closed the door behind him. "Blair, what's wrong?," he asked, his gaze focusing in at the manila folder in his Guide's hand.  
  
Jim's heart froze at the small glance he saw of the file inside, before his partner closed it, noting the charts that looked medical to his eyes. Jim glanced back at his Guide, noting the white-knuckled grip on the folder and the small tremors running through the slight body of his best friend.  
  
"Oh God," Jim thought, "What if something's wrong with him?" "Jim, why don't you have a seat?," Simon asked softly, the gentle tone sending alarm bells ringing in Jim's head. "Blair is something wrong?," Jim blurted out before he could stop himself.  
  
Blair's gaze dropped at his question, and instead of speaking he simply held out the folder towards Jim.   
  
Jim took the folder with trembling fingers, a thousand thoughts running through his head. 'What if something was wrong with Blair? What if this was his letter of resignation and he's decided to go back to the Uni.? What if he's dying?,' Jim thought wildly. With fear he opened the folder, and gazed at the first page, his heart in his throat.  
  
As his eyes skimmed over the info, his gaze became puzzled. 'DNA Results?,' his mind questioned as he began to flip through the pages. As he got to the last page, his eyes widened in shock. 'DNA match 83%, possible siblings?,' he read to himself. 'Siblings? Did that mean that Blair was . . ..' he thought wildly.  
  
Turning his gaze to his Guide, he was shocked to see tear-filled ocean-blue eyes looking back at him. "Does this mean? . . . " he began, his words trailing off.  
  
Blair bowed his head, swallowing in fear at the next words to come out of his mouth and the reaction they might invoke. "It means according to the results that your Dad is my father, . . . and that we're brothers," he finished, raising his gaze in fear.  
  
Jim stared back at the wet eyes, the word 'brothers', echoing in his head. "Brothers?," he repeated, his mind trying to process that thought as his gaze locked with his Guide's.  
  
Then to Blair's surprise, and Simon's assumption of what would happen, Jim reached across and pulled Blair into the tightest hug he could manage. Blair numbly returned the embrace, not realizing his reaction.   
  
"You're not angry?," Blair asked in quiet surprise, his eyes as wide as they would go. Jim pulled back immediately at the unexpected words, searching the wide eyes and fearful face in front of him. "What do you mean angry?," Jim demanded, "I couldn't be happier. You're my little brother by blood as well as by choice now. I got two little brothers now. Even if you are only a half-brother that doesn't change things. Chief, you'll always be a brother to me and now I got blood proof. Why would I be angry?," he demanded once more.   
  
"Because," Blair began softly, averting his gaze. "I . . .," his words faltering. "I'm not exactly . . .," he began again, his gaze focusing on the floor as he dropped his arms.  
  
"Blair," Jim began softly, tipping Blair's head up to meet his gaze. "I'm not mad and WON'T ever be ashamed THAT YOU'RE my brother. Remember that, little brother," he finished as Blair wrapped his arms around Jim tightly. Jim smiled at Simon over the top of the curly head, and Simon grinned back.  
  
Blair smiled to himself as he buried his head into his brother's shoulder. 'Brother,' he thought wildly, 'I have two big brothers.' His hold tightened fractionally as he closed his eyes. 'This time I won't lose the big brothers I'm given. I won't lose them like I lost my other one.'  
  
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Author's Note: I hope this chapter meets your satisfaction. I hope everyone likes it, and once again all reviews are accepted. I don't mind constructive criticism or even flames. Oh, and I hope you like the continuing sequel to this called, "My Name Is . . .," Thanks. 


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